Smorg
by Cager Macleod
Summary: OC, AU. Seventh year Slytherin, Steven, is an outcast because of his love for a certain girl. How will he deal with rejection and torment.
1. Day 1

**Smorg**

**A/N: This fic was written in reply to all those stupid self insertion fics that have been popping up lately. This one is inspired by My Immortal and other HP Mary-sues, but is no where near a self insertion fic. It deals with serious issues of a Seventh year Slytherin who has serious depression and not a friend at Hogwarts. This OC is set in an AU HP world as Harry is doing his last year and Dumbledore is still alive. Any grammar and spelling mistakes are purely my fault as I do have a bit of trouble with Grammar. This is a five part story, Please R&R. And feedback and help would be greatly appreciated. **

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters.

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**Day 1.**

The wind roared and icy gale and hail pounded me as I made my way to the carriages that took us to the castle. I shivered, not so much because of the cold and more because of the thought of the approaching school year. I was in my last year at Hogwarts and I was probably the only wizard in the world that hated it here. Ever since my first year I had been an outcast. Alone in the world were I did belong. I am a pure-blood wizard, the name is Steven Moore, and I am in Slytherin. However my fellow Slytherins are only too quick to tell me I should be in Hufflepuff. I raised my arm to protect my head against the incoming bullets of ice and choose a carriage right at the back, where I knew I would be alone. The **Thestral** stared at me intently as I clambered into the relative warmth of the mouldy carriage. A chill overcame me, as I looked back at the horse-like creature, the memories of the death of my brother in his third year, my first, at Hogwarts. That was the day I lost everything.

The carriage moved and I watched with trepidation as the castle drew closer, I was through the gates, now there was no going back. I had begged my mother not to send me back this year, but she wanted me to get my NEWTS and I couldn't bring myself to hurt her after she had lost so much, first my bother and then my father was killed in his line of work. My father cared for magical creatures and sometimes they got a bit out of hand, this time he had been savaged by a dragon and died in St. Mungos a week later. It came to a stop and I exited, the Thestral seemed to sense my anxiety and licked my hand as I passed. I gave it a brief smile and stroked its head once before taking a deep breath and following the sea of black through the castle doors.

The entrance hall was blindingly bright compared to the blackness outside. Dripping wet and disgruntled students flowed into the Great hall like an unending line of ants. I tried to keep as inconspicuous as possible but it wasn't long before I was spotted by the one person I had been trying to avoid. Draco Malfoy and his group of Slytherin cronies. Malfoy, now also in his seventh year, yelled out over the sea of pointed hats to me, I tried to hide but it seemed every head pointed in my direction as though a spotlight was shining down on me. "Smorg, I thought you would have quit this year and went to join the Muggles. You're worse than a Blood Traitor, you might as well be a mudblood." Malfoy's friends roared with heinous laughter. I felt rage boil in my blood but it was soon replaced by deep despair. I just wanted it to be over, for me to be alone. Someone bumped into me, and I stumbled into a crowd of people that hissed angrily and pushed me away. I felt to the floor, sprawled out on my back and scrambled back to my feet to the roar of laughter.

There were a few more bursts of soft laughter all around me and a couple of people called out more insults at me, I hung back and waited for them all to go. I couldn't help but stop the tears well in my eyes. Self-hatred clawed at my chest. Malfoy's sleek blond hair stood out against the black, and I watched him depart to the Great Hall. Every now and again he would look over his shoulder and smirk at me. I looked at the ground, desperate to become invisible.

"Moore, what are you doing here still?" A crisp female voice asked and I looked up to see Professor McGonagall looking at me sternly. I met her eye briefly and quickly looked away, realising too late that she had seen the wet tear traverse my cheek. Her expression softened slightly and she said softly. "You don't want to miss the feast now." I shook my head, except that was exactly what I wanted to do was miss the feast. I wanted to be alone, but now I headed unwillingly towards the Great Hall, McGonagall walking close behind me.

I slid as silently as I could down to the Slytherin table. I could feel eyes on me as I choose a set as far away from Malfoy as I could, but that didn't stop him and his gang flashing smug grins at me in intervals. I picked up a fork and stabbed hopelessly at a potato. I didn't want to eat, and every time I contemplated taking a bite my stomach turned over and I felt a wave of nausea devour my insides. I took a sip of water, as I did not like pumpkin juice, but that did not help quell the fire inside me. I looked down at the table, desperate not to look anywhere else until Dumbledore dismissed us.

I was the first one to leave the table when the word to leave was given. I hurried from the Hall to the corridor that led to the dungeons. People pointed at me and laughed as I passed, meaning that the story of what happened in the entrance hall was already doing the rounds. I began to run blindly, shouting the password to the common-room from a metre away, I didn't want to stop and I didn't until I reached the confinement of the seventh year dormitory. I ripped the hanging around my bed as fast as I could and got into it, still fully dressed. I just wanted to hide away from them, knowing full well that I would have to face them tomorrow in class.

*****


	2. Day 2

**Day 2:**

I was one of the last into the Great Hall for breakfast, by being last this ensured that there would only be a spars group of students left at the tables. I sat down by myself and ate a piece of toast with raspberry Jam on it. This seemed to be all my stomach could handle and even this singular slice of toast made my stomach squirm.

After my pitiful breakfast I headed back down to the dungeons, however this time it was for Potions. There was only 12 other people in this class but this class included Draco Malfoy, who never missed an opportunity to make my life hell. The door to the classroom was already open when I arrived, meaning that everyone was already seated. A blessing and a curse.

I walked in as quietly as I could and took a seat at the back of the classroom. Slughorn gave me a quick glance but did not draw attention to me. This I was thankful for. I listened half-heartedly as he talked about some antidote as I drew on a spare piece of parchment. I started drawing innocent things like dogs and cats but then I soon progressed into the darker and more disturbing images of people hanging themselves and other grievous pictures. I did this because that is what I thought about every day of my life; A way out.

"Mr. Moore, would you pay attention." Slughorn snapped from the front of the room and my eyes shot up to see the whole class turned to face me. I went red. Draco sniggered at me and made a rude hand gesture. I felt angry rise again as I tried to ignore him, but my angry soon turned to self-hatred and I was lost in the thoughts that obviously I wasn't good enough to be alive.

"Now, that I have you attention." Slughorn reprimanded me, "As I was saying."

His voice washed over me and I found I was not able to concentrate on what he was saying. I felt something move beside me and realised Draco had pulled up a chair beside me. He was looking smug, a look that meant that I was going to be given hell.

"So Smorg," He hissed under breath so Slughorn couldn't hear him. "Why are you back, I thought you would have quit after the end of last year." His eyes glinted with malevolence and I felt a wave of fear overcome me as I saw left had curled around his silver potions knife. For a minute I thought he was going to stab me, but as soon as I thought it, it seemed stupid. I doubted he would stab me in the middle of class, but then I wasn't so sure after last year.

My mind flittered painfully to the memory of the last day of term. Malfoy and his pals had been waiting for me to come out to the dormitory. Crabbe and Goyle had grabbed me while Malfoy preformed the Cractius curse on me. I shivered with the memory of the pain and Malfoy's smirk became more pronounced. "That's what you get for loving Mudbloods," He snarled as he lifted the knife and pressed it against my wrist, "I guess I could cut it, but you would enjoy it, seeing as that what you spend half your night doing." He laughed cruelly and pressed it a little harder against my skin. I bit into my lip, willing Slughorn to walk past.

"Stop it, Malfoy, leave him alone." A shrill female voice wrung out and Malfoy dropped the knife to the floor with surprise. Hermione Granger glared at him from across the dungeon. Malfoy rearranged his surprise into a look of superiority and sneered at me.

"You're lucky Mudblood Granger was here to protect you," he snarled as he spat the words at me. "Lucky the love of you're life stood up for you, you piece of –"

"Malfoy!" Slughorn roared, "If I ever hear that language in this classroom again!" He berated Malfoy, who retracted in his seat as though Slughorn would strike him. I shot a sidewards smile at him, which Malfoy returned with a look of fury. Standing quickly he slouched back to where Nott was sitting, glaring at me with hate. I looked back down at my desk, knowing full well that Malfoy was right, I was lucky that Hermione had seen what he was about to do.

***

I had a free period after lunch so I used it to lock myself in my dormitory and listen to the radio. My preferred station was KROQ, and I had bewitched a radio so that I could pick up the broadcast from America. Music seemed to be my only escape from the world in which I lived, as though it understood me when no one else could. I hummed tunelessly alone with Infected by Bad Religion as I felt hot tears splash down my front.

I thought about Hermione and the way she had stood up for me, she was possibly the only one in the Castle that did not recoil at the sight of me. I wanted to talk to her but the problem was her friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, who, unlike Hermione, hated me. I think it was mainly because I was in Slytherin, but I had no desire to get near them. But, then again, I wanted to speak to Hermione. The song ended and I had made up my mind, I was going to try and speak to her.

I decided to try the library first as she was often found in their studying. However I was unsure of whether she had a free period or not. I hoped she did, although she would probably be flanked by Harry and Ron. But I knew I had to find a way to talk to her, to thank her for standing up for me, and maybe to tell her how I really felt for her, although I was not too sure whether I had the strength to do the lather.

I entered the silence of the library and searched though the aisles for the familiar brown bush of hair. I turned into the last aisle and there she was, sitting at a table near the window, and blissfully alone. I walked closer, feeling nerves twist my stomach, I wanted to turn and run back out of the Library but I steered myself closer towards her.

"Hi," I stuttered and sat down opposite her; she looked up and gave me a brief smile before going back to a book she was reading.

"Um, thanks for you're help today in Potions." I said softly, feeling myself going red. She looked up slowly. "It's okay," she said, something seemed strange in her tone. I didn't understand why she was so distant.

"Look, Steven, I'm not really interested in you, you see..." She began but she was cut off mid sentence by Ron, who had appeared from a row of books.

"What are you talking to him for?" He snarled "Come back to the Common-room. Harry has something he wants you too see." Ron turned to leave and Hermione jumped up from the table. She picked up her bag and swept off after Ron without so much as a backwards glance at me. I sat there stunned. Watching as the last of her robes whipped around the corner and out of sight.

*****

**A/N: Not really much to say for a AN other than please R&R, Thanks – Cager.**


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